How a kiss makes even the straightest person gay
by LiPooh
Summary: Stan thinks it's relevant to his case, but Kyle doesn't agree. It's relevant to this story, nevertheless. Style.


Wendy got to the point to make him cry.

They had broken their dating record in two months, and when the whole school was convinced they would last this time, she manages to find yet _another_ imperfection in his personality (which was _completely_ unreasonable). Once was the way he talked, the other how he gave his friends more attention than to his girlfriend, or how he was never a gentleman with her, or because he pukes on her face every now and then, or simply because she _thinks it's about time_, and she needs her personal space.

It really got to Kyle's nerves all this, but it's fine, right? _It's not like Stan has emotions anyway._ How that girl managed to break his super best friend's fragile heart so bad repeatedly for over ten years, and worse every time, just got to the point where she obviously does it for self-entertainment, because no girl is _that_ oblivious of someone's feelings.

If it hurt Stan, it deeply hurt Kyle.

And vice-versa.

Not just because Stan is his _super best friend for life_, who shares everything with him, and has more memories of him and more history with him than with his own freaking family, nor because they have spent more time together than with anyone else (_including_ their families), _or _because their friendship is so clean they can act like two total pussies and not be obligated to date, but because every time something happens to one of them, the other knows in no time, and ends up sharing the same feelings with him.

Every single time Wendy broke up with Stan, and every single time she came back to him, Kyle listened to it. He listened to _every single word_ it came out of Stan's mouth, is it how she's beautiful and smart and pretty and funny and cool, or how she's so oblivious of Stan's undying love for her, which he had made it so translucent that the _whole damn city_ knows, yet she breaks up with him for some dumb reason, and it's this exact dumb reason that breaks his heart in a million little pieces, and gets in his head for months to come, and kills his life for at least an entire week.

But it was because of that school play that everything changed for good.

Because everyone was ranting about the piles and piles of homework with no fun in, as they said and I quote, "this hell hole of a school", Mister Garrison decided to make a deal with the students. The idea he proposed was for them to choose a play and modify it to make it more entertaining to the public. Who wins wouldn't need to do homework for the rest of the year, and the idea was almost as immediately accepted.

They were given a week to think about it, to come to a conclusion, and to write it down, in order to hand it to Mister Garrison, so he could read them all and choose a winner.

Who ended up being Butters.

He chose Alice in Wonderland, naturally. The main character would be a guy, who died and made a pact with the demon so he would come back to life, but the maximum he could get to living again was live in Wonderland. Accepting the deal and giving his soul to the devil, he finds himself in said land, where he meets Sunshine (Butter's version of Alice), who's a blonde princess. The man finds out that her mother, the Queen of Hearts, rules without a king, so he and the queen _have some fun together_, and the royal guards find her dead on her bed the next morning. While they're trying to find someone to blame for their queen's death, Sunshine falls for the man, and blinded by the fact he is the murderer, they get married and he turns Wonderland into the devil's beach-house.

The cast was raffled.

Kenny got to be the main character, Wendy was the queen, Bebe was the princess, Craig was the devil, and the rest were guards or detectives or the devil's messengers or figurants.

Stan was the head royal guard, Kyle and Cartman were the head detectives, Tweek was the head messenger (the devil's implied bitch), Clyde was most figurants and the rest took care of the backstage.

The students spent months preparing the play (they only didn't kill Butters because they were going to present for the whole city, and if they found it entertaining, all of the students were going to get extra points in their grade for being part of the play), which was worth their time, for the final product amazed even themselves.

The scenario was surprisingly perfect for teenagers from _South Park_ to have built it, and the outfits were simply amazing. Everyone had memorized their lines on the back of their hands, and were as much as in character as possible.

At marked date, all of the students were in the backstage, getting ready and reviewing their lines one last time as the people gathered inside, excited and looking for their seats.

Kyle was finishing fixing his costume, while in an ongoing argument with Cartman about whether they should both be head detectives or not. Kenny was bothering Butters, whining and telling him he should be his blonde princess instead of Bebe. Wendy was bitching nervous and even shaking as Bebe zipped up her dress, and Craig was teasing Tweek, making a supposition of things he'd do to the boy if he was really in charge of him. (Needless to say the blonde was terrified.)

Ten minutes before the premiere, Kyle noticed his _super_ best friend was nowhere to be found. He walked through everyone, asking them if they have seen Stan, but the boy was missing.

"W-What do we do now?"

"It's fine, Butters. I'll call him."

The redhead looked for his cell phone and pressed the speed dial to Stan's number, impatiently waiting a good four seconds until the raven picked it up. "SorryKyI'mlatebutI''tworryanddon'tbemadatmeokayloveyoubye." If Stan wasn't his _~super~ _best friend, he sure would bitch at him for hanging up on his face later.

Mister Garrison, the director, knocked on the dressing-room door (which was opened, he just wanted their attention) and told everyone to try and be quiet, for the audience was getting impatient and the show was about to start.

Kenny kissed the back of Butters' hand, never gazing away from his eyes, before walk to the stage and start off the play.

Ten minutes later, when the main character was making the deal with the devil, the backstage door almost broke open as Stan busted in. Kyle immediately ran up to him and brought a hand up to the boy's mouth, silently closing the door again, frowning at him for being late _and_ for making everyone worried sick _and_ for coming in that way.

"Three and you're out." Cartman whispered the comment.

The redhead didn't even bother in acknowledging Eric's presence, and focused his way into giving Stan's outfit its proper final touches before spin him around and push him out the dressing-room to behind the curtains. "You're next." His whisper was barely audible, but he was sure Stan heard him right.

"Thanks." The raven whispered back, just as inaudible, giving Kyle a quick brohug before take his place in stage.

Everyone knew, for it was as clear as day, that Stan daydreamed and completely spaced out while looking at Wendy at the first gap he got in the play. She was stunning in that dress, but it wasn't _just_ because of it that his eyes were so attached to her. In the play, her character was demanding and rigid and intelligent, though it all went to the drain when her character got close to Kenny. Stan felt a little jealous, it's true, but he was still dating Wendy, so so far so good.

At the end of the play, which was a success, the audience was applauding and laughing and being entertained as they held hands and bent over, thanking everyone.

The Stotches were maybe the only ones unhappy with it (though, in everyone's eyes, they should be the happiest ones, feeling so proud for their son's amazing play), so they were the only ones at their home, while the rest of the parents partied in a restaurant while the teenagers partied at Clyde's house, since it was the closest one to the restaurant.

Wendy was drunk, sure, everyone seemed drunk out of so much happiness, but she was really, _really_ drunk. Apparently, Clyde's parents drink, and he let her (and everyone else) have some drinks on their own. Stan had to decline it, for he swore to Kyle he wouldn't drink if Kyle wouldn't, too, and it remained that way. They've never had another shot since their first time, which made them really sick, with the worst headaches ever, and that's when they swore to each other they wouldn't drink ever again.

He spent the first hour of the party looking for Wendy, but every time he would find her, she would blab some nonsense and walk away, or laugh until puke or cry like mad and then laugh again and puke again and drink more.

It scared him, so he spent the rest of the night chatting with Kyle on the stairway.

In the following morning, Stan decided to pay a visit to Wendy, since, for the number of drinks she had had, it was kind of impossible for not to have a killer hangover later.

When he got invited inside her room, he carefully opened her bedroom door, only to find her sitting on her desk chair, with her back to him, her head resting on her hands, and her elbows placed on the table. He grinned.

"Drinking doesn't seem so good right now, does it?" Stan teased, approaching her.

It was when he saw she was crying.

"O-Oh, what happened?" Frowning in concern, he leaned closer, trying to take a look at her face, but had to back off as her hand came flying in his direction.

Wendy removed the other hand from her face, and turned to face her boyfriend. The makeup from the previous day had smudged because of the tears, and her eyes were red because of the remaining alcohol in her system. She was frowning at him, mad at him for some reason, but sobbing, mad at herself for some reason.

"We can't… I can't… It just…" The girl sobbed, wiping the tears away from her cheeks.

Stan knew what was about to come.

"Look, Stanley, you are a great person, but I realized that…" She paused, withdrawing. "Since the last time we kissed, I've been thinking and I have come to the conclusion that… Stanley, I am gay. My life is completely ruined, I know, but it's not something I can change. It wasn't my fault, after all." He swore Wendy shot him a glare that moment.

And Stan spent the rest of the day in his house, staring at the ceiling, just unable to believe, unable to process the information: his kiss made Wendy Testaburger play for the other team. The idea of how a kiss can suck so much to the point to make even the straightest girl turn gay wouldn't leave his head for nothing. He was hating himself, eating his insides, wanting to put a gun against his head and for the love of God, make a favor to the world and just pull the trigger because, Jesus, he turned the person he loves the most in the world _forever unable to love him back_.

The most painful tears broke their way out and down his cheeks, making a warm path as they rolled down. His throat seemed blocked and swollen, which caused his sobs to increase their number and propagation. The more he fought it back, the more the tears succeeded and escaped. The more he tried to forget, the more it seemed impossible.

He just needed a friend right now.

Without any type of warning, Stan threw his jacket on and ran outside, down the street to Kyle's house. Fuck his family, fuck the late hour, fuck the rain, fuck _everything_, he just needed Kyle right now.

The redhead hurried downstairs as he heard the agonizing knocks on his door. Sleepy and still half-dazed, he quickly glanced at the watch (which marked eleven oh clock), before unlock and open the front door, revealing a panting and in tears raven.

In less than a split of second, he was in a tight embrace. Kyle had no idea why his best friend was crying, or at his door at that time, but just hugged him back, just as tightly.

They stood there for what seemed to be seconds (Kyle figured out they were actually two minutes), before Stan broke away, wiping the tears off his face with his palm. "Can I come in…?" He asked, feeling pathetic.

"Of course, dude." Kyle answered softly, taking his best friend's wrist and bringing him in.

After locking the front door and going upstairs, back into his room, the redhead removed Stan's jacket and shirt and threw them on a corner. They were wet from the rain, after all.

He walked to his wardrobe, shuffling through his clothes until find some of Stan's (they always kept some of their clothes at each other's house, just in case) and hand him them, so he could change to dry ones.

"I'm sorry." The quarterback murmured, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall to the floor.

Kyle shook his head. "We all have shitty days, it's fine." He moved to sit on his bed so he could watch his best friend stripping better, and shook his head another time for obvious reasons.

Stan put on his clothes and laid on the bed, with his head on his friend's lap. "Wendy broke up with me again…" He started quietly, sighing.

The redhead let his hand trace invisible patterns on Stan's head, caressing his hair. "Do you want to talk further about it or…?"

"I think we broke up for good." Every time Stan would, brokenhearted, resort under Kyle's wing, everything turned out to be so much better and simpler. The words that minutes ago caused his head to spin and his throat to lock were now just part of the past, as if the fresh wounds on his heart were as much healed as possible, just for him being around Kyle.

It was like fucking magic.

"You always say that and you two always come back together. _Always_."

"Yeah, but she told me I made her gay with my kiss. I didn't know it was even possible. I didn't know I suck so much at kissing." Stan shrugged, not feeling that terrible overwhelming guilt that used to come with that thought.

"Pffft, really? You turned Wendy Testafuckingburger into a lesbian? Dude, that's pretty boss, and very fucked up." Ah, it was so good being comforted by Kyle.

"But dude, you don't get it. I must suck hard to turn a girl into a lesbian with a fucking kiss. From now on, I'm not kissing anyone ever again." Stan pushed himself up into a sitting position, turned to Kyle, who just shook his head.

"One thing has nothing to do with the other, dude. She turned into a lesbian because she doesn't like kissing guys, not because she doesn't like kissing _you._"

"How do _you_ know?"

"Because you don't suck _that_ much at kissing. It's kind of impossible, really."

"… You don't know that."

"Okay, fine, if you don't believe _logic_, the only other way of proving my point is if I kiss you."

"…" Stan shifted on the bed, uncomfortably. "K-Kiss me, then."

Kyle's heart skipped a beat at Stan's words, and quickened as he leaned forward, decreasing the space between their faces. It took him a split second of their eyes looking into each other's, before he gazed down at Stan's lips, softly pressing his own against Stan's. Both boys' eyes were closed as they moved their lips against each other's, their hearts beating fast. Waves of adrenalin plus pleasure went down their spines, making it feel so _perfect_.

It only lasted a couple of seconds before they had to break away; Ike had knocked (more to _beat the fuck out of_) the door, sending Kyle the message his mother told him to: ask Stan if he's hungry, as Stan if he needs something, and ask Stan if he's going to spend the night.

Kyle fidgeted his fingers with the bed sheets, feeling his face heat up as he stared at the wooden surface that was his door. "Um, he, uh."

"I'm fine, thanks." Stan answered for Kyle.

"Are you gonna spend the night or not?" Ike called from the other side of the door, just wanting to go back to his parents' bed (turns out he's seeing dead celebrities again) and sleep.

"Yeah." The redhead interjected, feeling much more secure when not being caught off guard.

They listened to Ike's footsteps as they fade away down the hallway, and in silence both of them remained, just staring at the door.

"… Well… Now you know why Wendy turned gay." Stan commented, trying to hide the nervousness and insecurity that was in his voice. It was in vein, for Kyle could see through him as if he was translucent, and he knew that. Kyle could precisely tell when he was lying, and when he was not. What he was feeling, and what he was thinking (at least most of the times).

"I told you it's not because of your kissing skills."

_It's because you don't have anyone to compare me with._ Stan just came to the realization that _he_ was Kyle's first kiss.

He was Kyle's first a lot of things, actually.

And vice-versa.

Kyle was the first person he held hands with, Kyle was the first person he had kissed on the cheek, Kyle was the first person he had claimed to be his bro, Kyle was the first (and only) person he had opened up to and told his deepest feelings and Kyle was always there when he needed someone to cheer him up and a shoulder to cry.

The feelings Stan has towards Kyle are just so, so simple and obvious to see, that he became blind to them. Almost like when you look without seeing or hear without listening. He had never really stopped to think about it.

How he would choose Kyle over anyone, how Kyle is the last person on the planet he would give up of, how without Kyle he doesn't have the slightest bit clue of what would happen to him. To his whole existence. To his whole being.

"Stan? Dude, are you alright?" The redhead waved his hand in front of his face, trying to make him come back to reality. "You've been staring at my thigh for, like, twenty seconds." Kyle brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

"Sorry, you're just so sexy." Stan chuckled, leaning forward to kiss his friend's head, grinning.

Kyle pushed him away, grinning as well. "Stop that, fag." He laid down laughing, bringing Stan along.

Both boys remained laying beside each other, in silence, for a good sixty seconds, before the raven break that calm atmosphere with a little "I love you, Ky."

The redhead smiled, glancing over at his super best friend. "I love you, too, Stan."

His blue eyes broke eye contact for a second, then back. "No, I mean it. _I love you, Kyle._"

Kyle's smile just widened. "_I mean it, too, Stan._"

A/C: Review? 8


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